


Lost Light

by kateydidnt



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Time Period: Reign of Gregor Vorbarra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateydidnt/pseuds/kateydidnt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traitors were always taken and buried in unmarked graves--families forbidden to claim them or burn offerings. But no one had the courage to stop Countess Vorkosigan, after her son was declared dead, from mounting the stand and carrying him away in her own arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Day After

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unforgiveable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/381770) by [Chrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrys/pseuds/Chrys). 



> There are a few stories (excellent ones to be sure) that address the "what if" posed by _The Warrior's Apprentice_ : What if Miles and Ivan had arrived back too late and Miles had been convicted of treason.
> 
> However, few of them address the long-term implications of that. This is my attempt.
> 
> Major Character Death (obviously), but also a possibility down the line for more.
> 
> Rather dark and angsty at some (or A LOT) of points.

Traitors were always taken and buried in unmarked graves--families forbidden to claim them or burn offerings. But no one had the courage to stop Countess Vorkosigan, after her son was declared dead, from mounting the stand and carrying him away in her own arms. 

From that moment, the Emperor ordered hourly reports on what was happening at Vorkosigan House.

He got the report about Count Vorkosigan taking an unopened bottle of brandy into his son’s room and locking himself in.

He got the report about Countess Vorkosigan bathing and dressing her son’s body.

He got the report about the fire some self-proclaimed loyalist started in the small park next to the house.

He got the report about Count Vorkosigan on his lawn loudly, angrily, and drunkenly ordering the ImpSec guards away from his home, a second bottle of brandy in his hand.

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan purchasing a coffin from a local mortuary and having it delivered.

He got the report of Lady Vorpatril arriving at the house and gently taking the brandy away from the Count and ushering him inside.

He got the report of Count Vorkosigan somehow managing to get his hands on another bottle of brandy and eventually passing out in a pool of his own vomitus.

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan refusing the Armsmen’s assistance in loading her son’s coffin into a ground car, and driving it away from the house herself.

He got the report of three housemaids, two kitchen assistants and one footman abandoning service in the Vorkosigan house.

And then all was quiet for a few hours. 

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan arriving at Vorkosigan Serleau hours later, parking the groundcar near the old cemetery and starting to dig a grave with a shovel.

He got the report of Count Vorkosigan, still drunk, but conscious once again, burning his imperial medals to nothing but charred lumps of metal and twisted plastic.

He got the report of two more housemaids, one groundskeeper and one handyman abandoning service.

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan, hands bloody and blistered, pouring the dirt back over her son’s grave.

He got the report of Count Vorkosigan .accidentally setting fire to the carpet as he carelessly moved some of the melted medals out of the way to burn some more.

He got the report of Lady Vorpatril returning to Vorkosigan House, only to be barred entrance by Count Vorkosigan’s orders.

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan exiting the house at Vorkosigan Serleau dressed in her old Betan Astronomical Survey uniform.

He got the report of Count Vorkosigan writing out his official, unneeded, resignation as Prime Minister.

And then all was quiet for a few hours.

He got the report of Countess Vorkosigan returning in the ground car and seeking out her husband, speaking for the first time since she had taken down her son’s body.

_**Imperial Security Surveillance  
Official Transcript  
Begin Transcript** _

Countess Cordelia Vorkosigan: Barrayar has eaten all of my children

Count Aral Vorkosigan: I know.

CCV: I can’t stay here.

CAV: I know.

CCV: Come with me.

CAV: You know they’d never let me.

CCV: I know.

CAV: I’ll...make sure you have no trouble.

CCV: Barrayar has eaten all of my children.

CAV: I know.  
 ** _End Transcript_**

The Emperor ordered the reports halted. 


	2. 1: Leaving

Count Vordrozda came as soon as he heard the news. “Sire, I cannot recommend that you allow this. There are still too many questions--the full investigation is still underway. We cannot have her fleeing Your justice so preemptively.”

Gregor, looking out the window onto the square, did not answer for a moment. Then he turned, exhaustion weighing down his frame, “She will be allowed to leave. Keep whatever surveillance you wish on her, but do not interfere with her leaving or with her life once she reaches Beta.”

“But, Sire,” Vordrozda protested, obviously incensed at this leniency.

Gregor held up a hand and Vordrozda subsided. “I just executed her son. I owe at least this small mercy to the woman who was as a mother to me.”

Vordrozda had no answer to that and so instead spoke again, “But Count Vorkosigan...”

“Will need to remain in Vorbarr Sultana. I shall have one of My Auditors conduct the full investigation into the questions that still remain.”

The Count froze at this. Where had this come from? He needed to keep control of the investigation--Hessman was in a precarious position due to that idiot Ivan, who the Emperor was keeping too close an eye on for them to do anything about, managing to survive. True, the lordling was incarcerated at this time, but a Vorbarra Armsman was on guard along with the standard military and security personnel. He couldn’t risk trying to interfere with an armsman, at this point anyway.

Smoothing out his expression, he said, “Ought we not keep it directly under your purview, sire?”

“Assigning an Imperial Auditor does not remove it from my purview. An auditor will be able to command any resources he needs and will report to me. But I have not the heart to do it myself.”

Vordrozda contained a sneer at this admission of weakness. He didn’t blame the Emperor himself of course, he blamed Vorkosigan and that thrice-damned Betan frill.

“Would you not permit me to take charge of the remaining questions then? I would report to you all you need know.”

“No, Stefan,” Gregor said shortly, “I have other work for you to do.”

~~00~~

The Count and Countess Vorkosigan were escorted from Vorkosigan House to the Imperial Residence by an entire contingent of Vordrozda’s men. They stood before their emperor with no less than a dozen security personnel arrayed with and behind them.

Count Vorkosigan looked terrible, obviously still hung over and in a state of disarray. Gregor couldn’t ever remember him looking like this--not even when a flu had swept through Vorbarr Sultana four winters ago and left everyone, including the then Lord Regent, wretchedly ill.

But looking at Countess Vorkosigan was worse. She held her eyes cast downwards, not deferentially or disrespectfully he thought-just completely apathetically. Though standing, she gave the impression of being slumped and small, leaning into her husband for support. He noticed her hands were still bandaged, covering the blisters of yesterday’s activities. He forced the mental picture of the Countess placing her son in his coffin and burying it from his mind. It had haunted his nightmares all night--and in a few it was Gregor himself she was burying instead of Mi--her son. He knew exactly what she had meant when she had used the plural in saying Barrayar had eaten all of her children.

“Count Vorkosigan, We have received your resignation as Prime Minister. It is accepted. However, you will remain in Vorbarr Sultana under house arrest as my Lord Imperial Auditor Vorparadijs conducts an investigation into the remaining questions We have. We request and require that you offer him your full cooperation.”

Count Vorkosigan spoke in a wooden voice, “Yes, Sire.”

“Countess Vorkosigan, you will be permitted to return to Beta Colony as is your desire.” Neither twitched at the blatant reference to the surveillance this knowledge implied.

Countess Vorkosigan, in fact, did not even blink or acknowledge his address of her. He felt his heart shatter again. He knew that he was dead in her eyes now. She would never forgive him, never forgive Barrayar. He was probably lucky she didn’t have Kou’s sword-stick with her right now.

He didn’t feel lucky. He almost wished she did have it.

His thoughts were interrupted by Count Vorkosigan’s voice, “Thank you, Sire. May I accompany my wife to the spaceport to...” the Count’s voice cracked and he stopped speaking for a number of moments, Adam’s apple bobbing frantically as he fought for control, “to say good-bye?” 

Countess Vorkosigan flinched at this-the only sign yet that she was paying attention to what was happening. The Count gripped her more closely.

Gregor almost allowed it. What harm could it possibly do now...but no. Stefan was right, he was allowing mercy to the Countess, but there were too many questions surrounding Count Vorkosigan and the late Lord Vorkosigan’s activities to permit even a chance of fleeing.

“Your request is denied Count Vorkosigan.”

Countess Vorkosigan shivered. Gregor broke a little. “But you will be permitted the privacy of a room in the residence to say your good-byes.” Gregor abruptly turned and exited, signaling two of his Armsmen to come with him. He instructed them quickly to take the Count and Countess to one of the smaller reception rooms and guard the door. He would permit them up to an hour. 

Knowing his will would be done, he escaped to his own private rooms, the image of the Vorkosigans looking so broken burned into his mind.

~~00~~

When the doors closed and they were left alone Cordelia abruptly sank to the floor. Aral followed her down, both of them clinging desperately to each other. Neither said a word for a long time, there wasn’t anything to say really. 

They both loved each other as much as they ever had. But that didn’t change anything. She couldn’t stay and he couldn’t leave.

“My Captain,” Aral breathed out shakily and then stopped, unable to think of anything to say. 

She curled into him more, shivering as silent tears poured down her face. He’d known what she was going to do when he’d seen her back in her old Betan Survey uniform. He wasn’t even surprised. But the thought of not having her, not being with her, hurt beyond words. They’d been parted at times in the past twenty years, but they always knew they’d eventually come back together. 

But this time...

“Aral,” she said softly, “make me forget, just for a few moments. And give me something to remember.”

He turned and caressed her face, memorizing every line and curve. Then he kissed her long and slow, before they, perhaps for the last time, undressed each other.

~~00~~  
Gregor almost didn’t return when it was time for the Countess to be escorted to the spaceport. She wouldn't want to see him, and she wouldn’t have anything to say to him--at least nothing that he could bare to hear. But...he had to see her. 

He found the Count and Countess in the east foyer, once again surrounded by guards. He studied the two of them before he made his presence known. They were gripping hands so tightly their knuckles were white, looking into each others’ eyes as though they could talk mind to mind. 

He remembered a nine year old Miles gabbering away about parental telepathy once when he’d come home from the Military Preparatory Academy for a short break--something about a plot that had gone awry--he couldn’t quite remember what activity Miles had been planning, but he remembered being exasperated with Miles because he’d just walked into his own bedroom only to be accosted by the younger boy before he’d had a chance to take his boots off.

He blinked quickly, swallowing hard, and pushed the memory away. 

The guards straightened as they saw their emperor and the Count and Countess both turned their gazes to him.

It was the first time he’d seen the countess’ eyes, or full face, since he’d made the order of execution. He stopped short at the expression on her face. It wasn’t because he didn’t know what it meant, but because he knew it all to well. It was the same expression he’d seen in the mirror every morning during the nine days it had taken Miles to succumb to starvation and exposure. Hate, love, fury, pain--all mixed in with large amounts of despair and hopelessness.

His mouth went dry and the words that Stefan had suggested fled from his mind. All he could do was look at her in helplessness. All was silent as their gazes locked. Then the Countess walked towards him. A few guards made to move, but Gregor stopped him with one hand. When she was within reach she raised up one arm and Gregor almost flinched, expecting her to slap him. Instead her hand hovered just inches from his head, as though about to caress his hair as she had always done. But then with new tears standing in her eyes, she curled her fingers into a fist and dropped her arm to her side. She turned swiftly away and walked out the door, her escort hurrying to catch up with her. 

The remaining guards escorted Count Vorkosigan away, presumably back to Vorkosigan House and his house arrest.

Gregor was left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might have stolen the name "Stefan" as Vordrozda's given name from another author.


	3. Chapter 2: Investigation

Chapter 2: Investigation

Aral didn’t pay much attention to his guards. He was on autopilot as he rode back to his home and entered. Armsman Jankowski greeted him with eyes that looked nearly as exhausted and haunted as his own. 

“My Lord, all of my Lady’s personal staff have been notified.” Aral simply nodded. Jankowski eyed him nervously, “There is a small lunch, my Lord...” he trailed off as Aral left the front hall without a word. 

Aral once again locked himself in Miles’ room with a bottle of brandy. 

~~00~~  
Lord Auditor General Vorparadijs listened to Admiral Hessman and Count Vordrozda as they recounted the evidence and presented him with the data chips of the information they had documenting Lord Vorkosigan’s treasonous activities along with the unanswered questions about Count Vorkosigan’s involvement.

The Auditor only lent a small portion of his attention to what they were saying and instead started reviewing the data on a reader. 

Vorparadijs had been appointed a Lord Auditor by Emperor Ezar and had been much like the old man in mind and temperament. However, it was Gregor’s who held his oath now, and it had been Aral Vorkosigan who’d held it not too long ago. And he could read Vordrozda like a cheap magazine. The man had no grasp of subtlety.

Of course, just because Vordrozda had an angle in all this didn’t mean he wasn’t right. A Count who couldn’t turn a situation to more than one advantage wasn’t worth his seat.

The biggest remaining questions had little to do with Lord Vorkosigan’s activities--the evidence was all there--and more to do with how much various parties knew and when they knew it. It was why Count Vorkosigan was under investigation and why Simon Illyan was still being held in his own domain, and why Lord Ivan Vorpatril was being brought up on charges as well. Absent Without Leave was the primary charge currently, but the extent of other charges would be determined by the investigation.

Vorparadijs completed his initial skimming of the data and cleared his throat, interrupting Admiral Hessman, “This is enough to begin with. You can go.”

Both men, to Vorparadijs’ pleasure, looked gobsmacked for a moment. _Not used to being dismissed so easily, eh?_ Well, they’d better get used to it. The Emperor might be giving them his ear, but this Auditor wasn’t going to give them an inch until they earned it from him. Damn hard thing to do.

Once the men left, Vorparadijs got to work. He sorted through the questions compiled by Hessman, Vordrozda and Gregor himself. There were some he could answer right away and strike from the list. All the questions pertaining to the extent Aral Vorkosigan wanted the Imperium for himself for example. Of course, Hessman and Vordrozda couldn’t know, but Gregor really should have paid more attention to the Auditor reports from near the end of the Regency. 

When rumors of a movement to name him emperor had reached Vorkosigan’s ears, Vorkosigan had immediately acted to deflate and divert any such activities. Auditor Vorsmythe had, at Aral’s request and requirement, taken on the assignment. Vorsmythe had never been fond of the Regent and was not likely to have padded it in any way to make him look better.

The final report had found 13 Counts would, if asked, immediately move to support Aral as Emperor in favor of the boy. Another 17 could have easily been persuaded. Of the remaining half of the districts, only five could be counted in the absolute ‘No’ category (ironically, Vorkosigan District would have been in that category--Piotr would never have supported a power grab from the young Emperor). Vorkosigan had been riding high as Regent and near the end enjoyed a particular boost in popularity. Once many had gotten over their complete surprise at the man actually returning power to the rightful emperor, and it became clear as his father’s Voice in Council he was most decidedly a Progressive (abandoning the pseudo-neutrality of the Emperor’s Voice) support for “Emperor Aral” had dropped precipitously. 

Aral wasn’t a fool. If he’d wanted the Empire he could have had it at any time. 

Vorparadijs discarded a few more questions about Aral funding or supporting a grab for the throne and instead wrote a few of his own about how much the Count had to do with his mutant son acquiring a mercenary fleet. 

~~00~~

Aral couldn’t bring himself to enter what had been the rooms he shared with Cordelia. He couldn’t imagine doing...anything without his Captain with him. He took another swig of brandy. 

Damn the boy! What had Miles been thinking! An involuntary sob escaped him as the image of Miles starving in the square popped into his head. He took another gulp, trying to make it go away. It didn’t work.

What tin damnation had happened out there? Where the hell was Bothari? He’d never even been able to ask...

He tipped the bottle back only to find it was now empty. Somewhat dismayed, he threw it against the wall. It shattered satisfyingly.

“Milord?” 

His Armsmen were hovering. Some of the older ones still remembered how he had been after Escobar. He ignored the call.

He contemplated the glass shards now littering the carpet. The bottleneck was still intact with deadly sharp edges. He hadn’t actually been able to kill himself after Escobar. He furrowed his brows in studied thought. His wife and son were lost to him now. Cordelia might not be dead, but he knew she would never return to Barrayar. His life’s work was in ruins. He knew a just investigation would absolve him of any involvement in Miles’ activities, but he would never be trusted again. The Conservative coalition would take advantage of this and start pressing their agenda heavily. The Progressive party would be struggling to recover—trying to find a leader untainted by the scandal, but most of them were too closely allied with the Vorkosigans. All the work of the past twenty years would be undone.

And he would have to watch as Vordrozda slowly twisted the Emperor about. Damn the boy! Hadn’t he taught him better than this? Hadn’t he warned him about flatterers?

What had he done so wrong?

He focused his attention on the bottle neck again. It wouldn’t take much effort. It could be done before anyone knew.

What did he have left?

Of course, when he asked himself that, he was forced to also answer. The answer had been there all along and he’d been trying to ignore it.

He had his Oaths.

Is this how Vorhalas had felt? This burning fury and numb disbelief, at the same time? The desire to simply let it all go? But keenly aware of the weight of the oaths he had taken.

His father had once taken up arms and broken his oath to his emperor. He was sure that Vordrozda was just waiting for him to do the same. But he couldn’t. In the initial shock and grief he had entertained the idea, for very brief moments, but then he had buried it completely. Not only were his hands between Gregor’s, he also loved the boy. He’d just lost the son of his blood, he could never do anything to truly hurt the other boy he had raised. 

For now, until such time as he had fulfilled the wishes of his Emperor, he would remain alive. The only thing of importance left in his life were his Oaths and he would hold onto them with everything he had.

~~00~~

It was three days before Vorparadijs came to Gregor. The Auditor still had not visited Vorkosigan House but had been very busy talking to various other parties. He’d, most notably, interviewed Simon Illyan. Though the disgraced ImpSec chief would most likely be questioned multiple times. 

“Sire,” Vorparadijs addressed the young Emperor, “though Simon Illyan has an induced Fast-Penta allergy, much of what he says is corroborated by other evidence. There appears to have been no delay between Simon Illyan’s first knowledge of the rumors of Lord Vorkosigan’s mercenary fleet and the communication of this information to you.”

Unexpected relief flooded Gregor’s face, but then Vorparadijs continued. “However, Captain Illyan reports that he had numerous conversations with Count Vorkosigan involving speculation about the facts that were not passed along to yourself. When the evidence became more damning, Count Vorkosigan approached Captain Illyan with a plan.”

Gregor’s body stiffened and his face grayed. 

“This conversation took place by comconsole, from Count Vorkosigan’s secured com, which is monitored and recorded by the Chief of ImpSec. I think you will need to watch it.” Vorparadijs presented Gregor with a data chip. 

Gregor’s hands were not trembling as he accepted it, but he fumbled twice getting it into the comconsole. 

The picture came up, showing both the Count and the Captain. Gregor could see in the background the familiar surroundings for both. He paused before watching it though and turned to his Auditor, “The time and date of this have been verified?”

“Yes,” affirmed Vorparadijs, “By military intelligence, and an independent commercial firm. Neither, of course, were permitted to view the contents, but they did verify the timestamp as accurate.”

Gregor nodded and played the recording.

_“Damn it all to HELL Simon. What is the boy thinking?” Aral’s voice increased in volume to a thunder._

_Simon winced slightly but then replied, “You’re assuming he is thinking. Isn’t he just supposed to be visiting his grandmother?”_

_Aral sighed tiredly and ran a hand over his mouth, “I knew he’d do something stupid after he didn’t make it into the academy, though Lord knows I did my best to let him know how proud I am of him. But I thought sending him to Beta would_ prevent _anything disastrous.”_

_Simon gave a wan smile, “This is Miles, Aral.”_

_Aral gave a small snort. “And of course, just what I need is Vordrozda sniffing around trying to find some leverage against the Progressives. How he’s getting all his information I’m not sure, but Vortala says he’s going to move to bring charges of violating Vorlopulous’ Law before the Council very soon.”_

_“And what will you do?”_

_“What_ can _I do? Miles really hasn’t left me a lot of options. Why’d he have to do something so stupendously idiotic?!”_

_Simon gave him a sympathetic look, “He is the son of a great admiral--and he’s got a twisty mind.”_

_Aral shook his head, “No, this strikes me more as something he got from Cordelia.”_

_Simon looked utterly surprised._

_Aral gave him a look, “Come now, you were the one Negri put on Cordelia, you know how exactly she fled Beta. This has all the hallmarks of a flying by the seat of the pants. Not to mention, this is the son of the woman who, while technically still a POW, broke into the engineering room and took out all the mutineers on the General Vorkraft and then fled with her crew.”_

_Simon looked thoughtful, “Yes, there are certain similarities. Anyway, I’ve been looking at relevant laws. There isn’t any precedent here of course--no one has been convicted under Vorloplous’ Law since it was instituted. However, the law was written pre-galactic interaction. It assumes that any force commanded by a Count or Count’s heir is necessarily an oathsworn body, and that it is intended as a threat to the Emperor.”_

_Aral gave a snort, “Miles has no intention of using this force of his against Barrayar. That much I_ do _know.”_

_“I concur. However, Vorlopulous’ Law doesn’t give any ground for a boy who wants to play soldier.”_

_Aral grimaced, “Damnation--he could have just_ asked _Gregor to get him into the academy. Miles has never traded on their relationship, he’s never asked for an Imperial favor, from me or from Gregor--why couldn’t he just this once ASK for one?”_

_Simon just gave Aral a look._

_Aral waved his hand, “I know, I know.” He sighed and turned back to the topic at hand rather than his son’s pride, “Any wiggle room on the fact that mercenaries are contracted, not oathsworn? It is an entirely different relationship which can be dissolved in a number of ways very easily.”_

_“It is a good thought, but there isn’t enough wiggle room that I’d trust it to work out.”_

_“Well, then, I guess we both know what needs to be done.”_

_Simon nodded, “I’d be easy to goad Vordrozda into changing the charge to usurpation. And much easier to disprove. Since we both know Miles is as eager for Gregor to marry and have children as anyone to get as much distance between himself and the throne as he can, there’s no danger of the charge sticking.”_

_Aral gave a small smile, “I’ll wait for Vordrozda to lay the charges and let him think his needling is working, that’ll make it look better when I ‘lose my temper’ and goad him into a more serious charge.”_

_Simon gave a smile of his own. “And what will you do with Miles once all this is over?”_

_Aral scowled, “Academy or no--that boy is going to cool his heels at Kyril Island for six months. Maybe that’ll give him enough time to shake this stupidity.”_

_Simon looked doubtful._

_“Keep me updated on what you find out about these Dendariii Mercenaries--damnation what is he_ thinking _naming them a thing like that!”_

_Simon shook his head and cut the connection._

Gregor sat frozen, staring at the blank display. Utter horror was dawning in his mind. Did this really mean what it sounded like? There _wasn’t_ any plot to remove him...?

Vorparadijs seemed to read his mind and spoke, “Of course, this only proves that Captain Illyan and Count Vorkosigan had no intention themselves of usurping the throne. Their assumptions about Lord Vorkosigan’s intentions are just that--assumptions. There are still questions that both of them need to answer, but so far nothing points to them being guilty of treason either for violating Vorlopulous’ Law or plotting against you. The only thing it does point to is raging sentimentality on both their parts for that little mutant.” he sniffed in disdain.

Gregor jerked at that and stared at his Auditor, “Do not, “ his voice came out harsh before he caught himself and breathed for a moment, “Such epithets are not welcome here, my Lord Auditor.”

Vorparadijs looked surprised at the rebuke, but only replied, “Yes, sire.”

“What will you do next?”

“I believe I will visit Count Vorkosigan next. It is finally time to ask him some questions.”

Gregor nodded and Vorparadijs took his leave. The Emperor stared at the comconsole for long minutes, before starting to play the recorded conversation again. The knot in his stomach grew larger.


End file.
